


Verbatim

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [165]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6264697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>verbatim: adverb: vər-ˈbā-təm: in the exact words; word for word</p><p>late 15th century: from medieval Latin, from Latin verbum ‘word.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Verbatim

At various points in his life, John Watson knew there were things he would always remember; his first kiss (not very memorable, but still), the names of each and every bone and muscle, (yes, he still knew them all and could still break or at the very least damage them if need be), the first patient he ever lost in Afghanistan (could still remember his name, rank and serial number); and the very first time he heard Sherlock's voice(it was locked into his brain verbatim...)

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There’s no signal on mine."

But today, of all days, he knew he was never going to be able to remember exactly what Sherlock had said to him as they stood in bespoke morning suits, in front of a surprising number of people in that little church in Sussex. He had been far too busy looking into the greenishgoldenbluishness...hell, they kept changing as he spoke....to register the words. Then he had actually managed to get Sherlock to stay at the reception long enough to eat, thank goodness Lestrade had stood as 'Best Mate' for both of them, otherwise they'd still be listening to speeches; and finally their first dance. Sherlock carefully adjusted John's hands and grinned slightly as John stole one darting glance at his feet and they were off.

"Thank you," he whispered, as he swept them around the marbled floor.

"What for?" John peeked at his feet one more time then looked up into Sherlock's eyes.

"For saying yes."

"What else could I have said, love?"

 

That night, after they had finally managed to escape through that window (yes, they'd hear about that from Mycroft) and they had made it back to Baker Street, John sat on the edge of the bed finally removing his tight, shiny patent shoes and untying the bow tie that had been choking him all day. He closed his eyes and tried to recall the words.

"John, you know usually I'm not at a loss for words, in fact, you spend most of your waking moments trying to shut me up, but today, of all days, I find that all I can say is 'thank you.' Thank you for being at my side, for putting up with me and for not giving up on me. Thank you most of all for the simple act of loving me. Today shouldn't matter as much as it does to me, but standing up here with you, putting this ring on your finger is the most important thing I will ever do in my life. It means I have finally found a home, John. You are my home."

Sherlock was kneeling in front of him, smiling softly at him when he opened his eyes.

"I knew you didn't hear me."

"I watched your lips move and knew when you were finished... I was just lost, Sherlock. All I wanted to do was to grab your hand and leave that church and come back here and make love to you all day...I've never seen you more beautiful as you were today. You were absolutely stunning, and somehow, you were mine. Somehow, I managed to nod and speak and do the correct things at the appropriate moments, but, honestly, I remember very little."

"That's all right, love. Everyone took videos on their phones, I'm sure there will be bits and pieces on Facebook and YouTube for years to come, you won't be able to forget."

"I love you."

"You mentioned something about making love a moment ago...?"

"Uhm-hmmmmm...."

"Why are we still in these things?"

"Dunno, love."

They managed to celebrate their first night as a married couple for three hours, fifteen minutes and 43 seconds before their phones buzzed. "Damn. They finally noticed we left."

"Tell Myc to fuck off, we're on our sex holiday."


End file.
